


Big Boys Do

by Coffin Liqueur (HP_Lovecats)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Brief Reference to Animal Neglect/Injury, Cuddles, Established Relationship, Getting In Touch With One's Emotions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, bittersweet fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28928502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HP_Lovecats/pseuds/Coffin%20Liqueur
Summary: "You're the toughest damn guy I know, Chihiro."
Relationships: Fujisaki Chihiro/Oowada Mondo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Big Boys Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laced_Up](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laced_Up/gifts).



"You're the toughest damn guy I know," Mondo says lowly to Chihiro.

It makes him cry harder, and louder; he curls up and disappears against Mondo, under his jacket, and Mondo wraps it tighter around him, both in case it helps a little and as a kinda gesture of respect.

Honor, even.

He knows that Chihiro didn't take it that way, and doesn't trust him on what he said, and it fuckin' eats him up.

"N-no, I'm _not_ ," Chihiro presses out against his chest, the words with a tight, rigid core in seeking some kind of focus through the wavering.

The answer Mondo expected. He sighs, silently, eyes going dull. The center of his ribs aches.

"L- _look_ at me..." He sniffs hard, it pulling in with a little wheeze, before his voice shakes out again, thickened by the crying and faltering at the end. "A-always breaking down and c- _crying_ like this..."

"I know."

He knows, all right.

He gives Chihiro's back a pat, and lets his hand rest. He rubs it, up and down, once, and then lets it rest again. "I know what you're sayin'. ...And I'm not takin' back what I said, all right...?" His voice thins, just short of a whisper. "'N you know I wouldn't steer you wrong... Not you, outta everyone..."

He can feel Chihiro trembling, against him _and_ on his lap. He pulls his jacket around him all the tighter, even knowing it's got abso-fucking-lutely nothing to do with the cold.

The trembling culminates and seizes with a hiccup. Chihiro swallows it.

" -- I-I'm _sorry_ \-- " he says. His voice hits a sticky point; he needs to swallow again. "I-I _know_ you wouldn't -- I know you wouldn't... I didn't mean to -- "

" _Hey --_ " Mondo winces, in spite of himself, as his hand snakes higher, lightly up the back of Chihiro's neck so his thick fingers can graze and slip through his hair, combing at it in slow, repeating movements. "You're not doing _shit_ wrong. You haven't _ever_ done shit wrong."

The trembling starts to still somewhat.

"...I-I don't mean to -- take your encouragement for granted," Chihiro still says after a moment, and then falls silent.

Another of Mondo's breaths collapses out of him in a sigh.

Chihiro lowers with his chest like a bird on a falling wave.

He _still_ means what he says.

He can't think of a time Chihiro has ever done wrong. Continuing not to be able to believe him when he calls him _tough_ is very much included in that - continuing not to seem to see that it's no accident that he says it when he's fallen into _tears_ again over his own aspirations breaking his heart with how far away they seem and how much he feels he has to prove before going on and trying to prove it anyway; over _helping_ but feeling he can't help _enough_ when he doesn't have all the answers; hell, over seeing a stray kitten looking too thin and squeaking as it toddles up for food, over seeing a bug with a torn wing, over the pain of anyone and anything just _existing_ in the world - all shit he knows he would've at _least_ gotten a verbal roasting in the gang for so much as _caring_ about.

It's one of those _differences_ between them that Chihiro still doesn't _quite_ seem to see the way that he does.

"I fuckin' love you to hell and back, Chihiro, all right -- ?" he husks, the pain in his chest tightening and causing it to come out stiff. There are little _flutters_ to it, as he turns, the quivering now abated, his breath beginning to steady.

They _both_ want to be _so much_ , and only in Chihiro is it coupled with that much honesty. With that much _give-a-damn_.

It's --

\-- _ballsy_ , Mondo thinks it is.

He admires it, really and _truly_.

His face _burns_ as he thinks it.

And then it burns hotter.

Chihiro _should_ know and _feel_ that he's genuinely admirable; god _damn_ if he doesn't deserve it.

The heat _swoops_ through under the skin of Mondo's face in _shame_.

Tsh -- he don't know _how_ to get him to believe that. And again, it's not his fault, by a long shot. What the hell could ever be his fault?

Nah - it's him.

Being the weak one in some way - not doing _enough_ of something to get it across. To make him _truly believe_ that he doesn't deserve to beat the shit out of himself like this.

...Feels like failure.

" _I'm_ the one who should be sorry, dammit," he says, faintly hissing it in an attempt to lighten it, avoid calling attention to it; after all, this ain't about him. Another wave of heat sweeps through his face and stings at his eyes and cascades to pool in his chest, and he imagines it's a second sting of self-frustration, knowing he probably didn't do too good a job on that front.

Sure enough, it seems like Chihiro heard that he'd said it through his teeth.

He turns up a face visibly streaked with freshly-dried, with eyes big and dark and still-shiny like bottle-glass.

His eyebrows are roofed high with concern.

"H-hey... Mondo..." he mutters, patter-soft.

The ache in his chest deepens and he represses a hiss at himself for causing concern; presses the tousling of Chihiro's hair down further to lightly massage and stroke at its roots, as an attempt at trying to add back to some ease.

"...Are -- are you crying...?" his tiny little voice finishes.

...The _heat_ deepens just like the ache did.

And the ache, in turn, is somehow seized and _wrenched_ in direction.

Things _bloom_ and _lock_ in respective places and the edge comes off the pain.

Mondo's hand stills, gratefully holding Chihiro in place, as another _flutter_ tickles a soft-yet-strange and free and airy _laugh_ out of him, as he understands something.

He blinks slowly, his smile holding of his own accord. Tears don't _roll_ , but he feels them prickle.

"... -- Yeah," he says - sweeping out, before his words start to stick like Chihiro's had. "...Looks like I am, babe -- ...!"

And glad, he is, that perhaps he's working toward being able to rise to Chihiro's level of toughness, too - enough that, after all, he _might_ be able to give him what he needs.


End file.
